


The Playing Field

by malicecharity



Series: Fair Game Stories [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, F/F, Family, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22042810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malicecharity/pseuds/malicecharity
Summary: Qrow Branwen is straight. He and Clover are friends. He is not in love with anyone.These are three true statements, except for the fact that they're not. And after a talk with team RWBY, Qrow starts to see this too. That's when things get a little bit complicated.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Series: Fair Game Stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665880
Comments: 35
Kudos: 385





	1. Chapter 1

Qrow extends a hand to Clover, who’s laid out on the floor. “Guess luck isn’t everything, huh?” He says with a faint smirk, but the playful inflection of his voice gives away the friendly nature of his ribbing. Clover chuckles and grabs Qrow by the forearm instead of the hand, hauling himself up off the floor. 

“Guess not,” and after a brief meeting of their eyes he smiles and relinquishes Qrow’s arm. “It was a pretty good fight though, wasn’t it?” He looks to Qrow’s other hand, and his face lights up. “Can I see Harbinger?” 

Qrow glances at Harbinger, fully in its scythe formation. He cocks an eyebrow at Clover, and then hands it over with trepidation. Clover holds it reverently, turning it over in his hands, then looks up at Qrow. “You made this?” He asks, impressed. Qrow nods and crosses his arms, watching as Clover inspects the gears at the connection between the handle and the blade. He carefully turns the scythe back into a sword, and looks up at Qrow again. “How long ago?” 

Qrow thinks about it for a minute, eyes skyward as he recalls. “Probably around 25 years ago. It’s been through a lot with me.” Clover raises his eyebrows, impressed, then looks back to Harbinger. He raises it as if he were about to wield it and gives one or two perfunctory stabs before handing it back to Qrow. 

“I’d love for you to teach me how to use it sometime. I mean, it’s a really impressive piece of work, and you just beat my ass with it, so…” Clover trails off, looking up at Qrow, whose face is momentarily blank with surprise before he nods. 

“Sure, but only if you teach me about Kingfisher. I’ve never seen a weapon like that before.” Clover smiles and opens his mouth to respond when a high-pitched squeal emits from the front of the training room. They both look in the direction of the noise, but it’s too late—a red blur slams full speed into Qrow’s chest, knocking him to the ground. 

“Uncle Qrow!” Ruby shrieks, hugging him tightly as he groans on the floor. “That was the _coolest thing ever!_ ” She slides off of him as he sits up, holding his head and looking with amusement at his excitable niece. 

“Take it easy on me, champ. I’m an old man, and my aura isn’t exactly at its best right now.” As he stands, she attaches herself to his arm. 

“What are you talking about?! That was the most amazing fight I’ve ever seen! You were _so_ good, your aura’s gotta be good too—” She babbles, swinging back and forth on his arm. Qrow makes eye contact with Clover, who’s doing his best to giggle in a dignified and Atlesian manner. The eye contact turns into a glare on Qrow’s part, only resulting in more giggles. He rolls his eyes as the rest of team RWBY walks over at a decidedly slower pace. 

“She’s right, you know—that was an impressive display of skill,” Weiss says, cutting off Ruby’s prattle, and then addresses Clover. “I thought that your use of Kingfisher was particularly inspired.” He smiles bashfully and rubs the back of his neck. 

“Not inspired enough to beat Qrow Branwen, but hey, I’d say I did pretty well against a Huntsman of his caliber. He’s a legend, after all.” Yang perks up at this.

“That’s right! Uncle Qrow’s the best.” She says, and leans against the side of Qrow not already occupied by a niece. 

“C’mon, guys, you’ll give me a big head.” Qrow ruffles Yang’s hair, causing her to squeak and bat away his hand as he laughs. 

Blake approaches with a slight smile. “It’s true. You both performed incredibly well. I’m just glad to have the two of you on our side and not Salem’s.” 

“Me too. And, if you ever want to spar against us, I’m sure Qrow would be happy to fight by my side instead.” Clover says. “But, for now, I’ve got to go; there’s an Ace Ops strategy meeting, and after _that_ a meeting with Ironwood. Besides, we’re almost out of our scheduled time in the training room, so you all should probably go as well.” He gives a playful salute to the girls, and then winks at Qrow before turning and heading out of the room. Qrow stares at him for a moment before Yang cuts through the silence, snapping him out of his gazing. 

“Uncle Qrow, do you wanna come play video games with us?” She says with eyes and smile bright as the sun, and he thinks of turning her down for only a second before discarding the idea. It’s been a long time since she looked at him like that. 

“Sure thing, kiddo,” He replies, ruffling her hair again before letting the group lead him to their room. Ruby slides off his arm so she can walk beside him and discuss every detail of the sparring match at 100 miles per hour, and he indulges her amusedly. Soon enough they’re at team RWBY’s quarters. A scroll is shoved in his hands, and the tournament begins. 

An hour later, he’s thoroughly beaten Yang, Ruby, and Blake, although his pride has suffered a significant blow at the hands of Weiss, who thoroughly beat him in her one round of play. He sets down the scroll and rubs his eyes. “Alright, kids, I think that’s enough of that. I know you all are on break this morning, but I have a meeting soon and if I miss it Jimmy will have a hissy fit.” Yang and Ruby both groan and attach themselves to his arms once again, planting their feet and refusing to let him escape. 

“ _Please,_ Uncle Qrow, don’t go, just five minutes!” Ruby wails. “I didn’t even get to talk to you about the way you transformed Harbinger during the—” He chuckles and cuts her off. 

“Fine, fine, but don’t make me late, okay?” The two girls nod and release him, and he sits down in one of their chairs. 

Blake smiles and looks at Qrow with knowing eyes from where she sits on the top bunk. “So... you and Clover sure seem friendly.” 

Qrow looks at her, brow furrowed slightly. “Well, yeah, we’re friends.” Yang then gets a mischievous smile and turns to him. 

“Really?” She says, eyebrows disappearing under her hair. “Friends, huh?” 

“...Yeah?” 

“Because it seems like you’re a little more than friends, if you catch my drift.” 

Qrow makes a face. “It would be hard _not_ to catch your drift, but no, we’re just friends. Where are you getting this from?” 

Weiss, who is across the room and brandishing Myrtenaster as she inspects it for smudges, deigns to look over at Qrow and raises one eyebrow. “To be fair, there was a lot of flirting going on. From the both of you, but especially from him.” 

Qrow shakes his head. “No, no, Ice Princess, you’ve got it all wrong—I was _not_ flirting with him. No way.” He crosses his arms and sits back in the chair. 

Blake giggles. “So you concede that _he_ was flirting with _you_?” 

Qrow rubs the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Clover was being nice. He’s a nice guy, that’s what he does. He’s nice to people.” 

Yang starts giggling too. “But not that nice. ‘He’s Qrow Branwen, he’s a legend, oh, be still my beating heart! Catch me, Qrow, I’m swooning,’” She cries in a poor imitation of Clover’s voice, and then slumps against Qrow’s leg. He scowls and gives her a shove, and she falls to the floor laughing. 

“That is not what he sounds like.” He grumbles, and Weiss sighs wearily. 

“Maybe he hasn’t said it in so many words, but I can tell you with certainty that I’ve never seen Clover talk to anyone else the way he talks to you. And he definitely doesn’t stare at anyone else the way he stares at you, either.” Qrow looks up at this, confused.

“... What do you mean? How does he stare at me?” 

Ruby, having been quiet throughout the utterly embarrassing conversation, pipes up. “Well, Uncle Qrow, he kind of… looks at you like you’re… I don’t know.” She turns to Yang for help. 

“Like he wants to eat you alive,” Yang says with a smirk, setting Qrow’s face ablaze.

“Yang!” He says, and then covers his face with his hands. Leave it to his nieces to thoroughly humiliate him, a huntsman of supposedly ‘legendary’ proportions. 

Blake slides off her bed and sits on the floor next to Yang and in front of Qrow. “Maybe not like he wants to eat you alive,” She says, chuckling and giving Yang a pointed look, “But he definitely stares at you like he’s completely smitten.” 

“Really?” Blake nods, and Qrow’s eyes go wide for a moment as he ponders this before he shakes his head and waves it off. “I mean, it doesn’t matter though. I’m a ladies’ man, through and through.” Yang gives him a skeptical look, and when he looks to all the other girls for support, he finds that they all have betrayed him in the same way. 

“You spend almost all of your free time with him,” Weiss adds, slashing her rapier and then, seemingly satisfied with its cleanliness, puts it away. She moves to sit across from Qrow in the other chair. “And don’t think we didn’t notice you staring at him after he winked at you.” 

“That was—it was a friendly stare,” Qrow sputters, face still entirely red. “I was just—I was just watching him go!” Yang smiles deviously. 

“And you sure _love_ to watch him go, don’t you?” Qrow groans in frustration and covers his face again. Scandalized, Ruby hits her sister, and Qrow can barely hear her berate Yang over the sound of blood rushing in his ears. 

“I don’t,” He says weakly, but it’s no use. He _does_ love to watch Clover go. 

Dammit. Is he attracted to Clover? 

Blake touches his knee softly, and he looks up. She smiles. “I know it might be a little overwhelming to figure out how you’re feeling, especially when it’s about a guy and not a girl. Sometimes we just fall in love and don’t even notice until we’re head over heels, and it can be surprising to find out that it’s not with someone who’s of the gender you normally prefer.” Yang stares at Blake, eyes wide. “But love like that is a rare thing, especially reciprocated, and you shouldn’t let it go to waste. Clover seems to really like you.” Qrow stares as well, shocked, and then Weiss speaks. 

“Blake is completely right. But it’s also time for you to go, or General Ironwood will ‘have a hissy fit’ like you said.” She says, air quoting Qrow’s words. Then she smiles, and in that moment her smug expression resembles Winter’s. Damn Schnees. “Clover’s going to be there. You should talk to him.” Qrow stands and nods, not quite fit for speech, and moves to head out. 

As he walks out of the door, a pair of arms wrap around him. He turns and sees Ruby attached to his chest. He hesitantly hugs her back, and then Blake, Weiss, and Yang join in. He smiles, and after a moment he starts to protest in the obligatory fashion. “Alright, okay, this is very sweet and all, but like you said I have a meeting to get to and you’re all crushing me. Does anybody remember that I was just in a very intense fight, or have all your little teenaged brains forgotten already?” At his grumbling, the girls let him go. 

Ruby looks up at him with wide eyes and smiles. “Go get him,” She whispers, and then turns back into the room. Yang gives him an extra squeeze and goes back as well. Qrow smirks and ruffles Blake’s hair, her cat ears twitching, although he doesn’t dare to do the same for Weiss.

“Thanks, you two,” He says, and walks away.

“Good luck, Uncle Qrow,” Blake calls out after him, and his chest feels warm all of a sudden. Gross. The feeling doubles when Weiss says it too, yelling down the hall. Just a few months ago he didn’t even deserve to be called ‘Uncle’ by Ruby or Yang, and now… 

Well, now he heads off to see Ironwood. 

And Clover. 

Oh, gods.


	2. Chapter 2

“Qrow. You’re late.” Qrow sighs and rubs his neck. 

“Sorry. My nieces are pretty demanding people.” Ironwood gives a slight nod of understanding and turns back to the hologram of Amity Arena he’d been pointing to before Qrow walked in; still, Ironwood’s pass doesn’t save Qrow from Winter’s disapproving glare. 

Clover chuckles from where he stands across the room, and Qrow immediately blushes. Having just gone through the mortifying ordeal of the kids explaining to him his own apparent crush on the man, the whole concept of ‘Clover Ebi’ is a raw subject for him. He averts his eyes and trudges over to the opposite side of the hologram from where Clover stands. When he looks up again, Clover is looking at him. He gives Qrow a small smile and then diverts his attention to Ironwood, who starts to speak. 

“Progress so far is on track, but we’ve been seeing higher amounts of Grimm attracted to the area, likely as a result of increased personnel coming and going from the construction site. I don’t want any disturbances to the personnel, the materials, or the site itself, especially since it involves so much dust––any upheavals could prove to be highly dangerous. From now on, I’m going to divert more of our Huntsmen to patrol the site; however, I need your experiences in the area to help me understand how many people to deploy, and where we should position them.” Ironwood gestures to the site below Amity on the hologram, and then moves the image to zoom in on it. Winter and Clover both nod and approach, but Qrow furrows his brow. 

Clover points to three areas on the hologram. “Here, here, and here are the entrances where I’ve seen more Grimm than one might expect. If we send groups of three who can ride in and out with trucks every couple hours to protect both the cargo and the construction site, we can maximize efficiency.” 

Winter points to two other spots. “Here I have also observed an abundance of Grimm sightings. It would be wise to send patrol groups to these spots as well; and out of the five spots we identified, there should be patrol groups on at least three of them during construction hours.” After a moment of silence, the group turns expectantly to face Qrow off to the side, who has yet to participate. 

“Yeah, yeah, great, uh—James? Can I speak to you? Alone?” He says, eyes flicking to Clover and Winter for a moment before landing back on Ironwood. What he has to say on the subject is unlikely to make the general happy, and it’s probably best if an audience isn’t around to hear it, especially Winter. Ironwood nods his affirmative, and the two soldiers immediately take their leave, though Clover meets Qrow’s eyes before walking out. 

Ironwood moves to sit down at his desk and rubs the bridge of his nose. “What is it, Qrow?” He says, clearly frustrated. 

“We have very few huntsmen patrolling the wall around Mantle as it is. If we divert them to Amity, aren’t we putting the people of Mantle at risk?” Qrow asks. Ironwood sighs. 

“It’s a risk we have to take in order to reestablish communications. Nothing is more important.” Qrow frowns. 

“It’s not a risk _you_ have to take because you’re not the one taking it—the people of _Mantle_ are the ones who have to take it. Haven’t they suffered enough for this cause?” Ironwood looks up from the table to meet Qrow’s accusatory gaze, eyes blazing. 

“It’s for the greater good.” He says, and his posture is impeccable but his voice trembles in the slightest. Qrow shakes his head. 

“It’s not! The benefit of reestablishing communications is not worth the crushing of Mantle. People are dying, James—of starvation, of exposure, of Grimm, of goddamn _murder_ because of all this unrest. If you’re trying to save these people, you’re going about it in a pretty fucking interesting way. I tried to hold back before, but this is the final straw. There’s only so many sacrifices you can force others to make!” Qrow is shouting by the end, chest heaving and fists clenched. 

Ironwood slams his metal fist on the table. “It’s what I have to do. As the protector of Atlas, it is my responsibility to do what I believe is right. I don’t expect you to understand; all you’ve ever been responsible for is a group of children, and I doubt you were ever sober enough to look after them.” Qrow clenches his teeth and looks out the window, unable to meet Ironwood’s eyes. 

“I’ve been clean for months now. You know that.” He says, voice quiet. 

“I know. I’m sorry,” Ironwood replies, and seems to mean it. 

Qrow turns to walk away, but pauses to look over his shoulder and say one more thing. “Just ask yourself this, James, before it’s too late: is this what Ozpin would have wanted?” Without stopping to see Ironwood’s reaction, he leaves and, the girls’ words still fresh in his mind, goes to find Clover.

Outside the door, the man in question stands just across the way having a chat with _Winter_ of all people. They appear to be oblivious to Qrow’s entrance, and on Clover’s face is an easy smile. Winter even looks less tightly wound than usual. “That was quite an astute suggestion, Captain. The doubling of cargo protection and site patrolling will save our people multitudes of time.” Qrow rolls his eyes at Winter’s interpretation of a compliment, but Clover appears to take it pretty well. 

“Thanks. And, I’ve been meaning to tell you—your summoning work is truly impressive. I’ve always admired your fighting style.” Winter actually blushes at this, and her professional persona dissipates for a moment. 

“Thank you. You are a commendable fighter as well.” Qrow, not wanting to interrupt, slinks past and heads straight for his room. 

As he leaves, he hears Clover say, “Maybe you’d like to spar sometime…” With a scowl, Qrow puts his hands in his pockets and turns the corner.

Weiss had said that Clover doesn’t talk to anyone the way Clover talks to him. Obviously she was mistaken; Clover’s just nice to everyone. Or maybe Clover flirts with everyone. Either way, one thing is clear: Qrow is not special. 

He scoffs. Of course he isn’t. The girls just got in his head; they were seeing things. Who would want to _be_ with him, when he is the way he is? The funny thing is, he had started to believe—for barely ten minutes—that he and Clover might… well, it doesn’t matter now. Finding out that he might harbor real feelings for someone only to have his hopes immediately crushed is just his fucking luck. 

As he walks through the hallways, the lights mounted on the wall flicker and die in a shower of sparks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one’s a bit shorter, but I felt it was a natural stopping place, so I extended the chapter count so it’s four now. Hope you enjoy! :)


	3. Chapter 3

Walking out of the training room, Qrow unwraps his hands and takes a deep breath. Punching bags certainly aren’t the most satisfying training exercise, but he had needed to blow off some steam and doesn’t particularly feel like sparring with anybody, still tired from the fight with Clover that morning. And as sure as he is that Ruby or Yang would be thrilled to just work out with him, he also doesn’t want to see anyone right now. 

After a quick shower, he heads back to his room. When he arrives, he’s greeted with the sight of glass shattered on the floor, a casualty of his semblance earlier; he steps over it carefully but decides not to risk trying to clean it up while his misfortune continues to act up more than usual. The room is still plunged in darkness, but hopefully the lights will decide to come back on sooner or later. He discards the shirt he wore for training and, after groping around in the dark, picks up the soft white V-neck he wears under his normal outfit. He puts it on and sighs. 

What is he going to do with himself? He’s spent enough time sulking and beating up a punching bag to have wasted all the productive hours of the day, and the idle hours of the night are all ahead of him. No job, no missions, and the training room is surely closed, everyone having left for their hour off before slowly meandering to bed, although he knows he certainly isn’t going to be able to sleep right now. There’s nothing to do except seek someone out or keep to himself, but Qrow doesn’t want to speak to anyone and he also doesn’t want to be alone with only the catastrophes he caused earlier to keep him company. He’s stuck. 

Qrow sits on his bed and stares at the broken glass on the floor. He hadn’t been trying to drink when he had picked up the glass, he had just… picked up the glass. He hadn’t wanted to scratch the itch for a drink that haunts him always, so he had just picked up a glass in the hopes of alleviating some of the need with the familiar feel of the glass’ weight. That was all he had done. 

He hadn’t expected to be so broken up about this whole thing. He’s only known Clover for a few months and only known that he  _ liked  _ him since this morning; but the romantic crap is the less important part. The hope of someone seeing beyond his semblance,  _ seeing him,  _ is one he has maintained all his life. It had never been fulfilled until he met Clover, but now he knows the truth—Clover doesn’t see him in the way he wants to be seen. Nobody ever has, and it’s feeling more and more like nobody ever will. 

Qrow places his head in his heads and breathes deeply, frustrated at the world, frustrated at himself, frustrated at Clover. Thoughts stop running through his head; he just sits and breathes and feels. 

He’s interrupted by a knock on the door, which he doesn’t respond to at first. On the second try he picks up his head to glare at the door in annoyance and eventually gets to his feet. He carefully walks over the glass and finally flings open the door to see Clover, his hand raised to knock again. He feels the urge to shut the door in the man’s face, but the lights in Qrow’s room miraculously flick back on and he has the feeling that if he shuts the door they will most certainly turn back off again. There’s a moment of silence where he looks at Clover expectantly, and Clover looks at him expectantly, before the man gives up on getting a greeting from Qrow and speaks. 

“So I was wondering, if you’re not doing anything right now, if you’d like to join me in the rec room to hang out,” Clover says, and leans against the doorframe. Qrow keeps his hand on the door, ready to shut it at any moment. 

“Shouldn’t you be ‘hanging out’ with your girlfriend?” Qrow says with derision, causing Clover to furrow his brow. 

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” Qrow chuckles sardonically. 

“Then shouldn’t you be out trying to fix that?” He moves to close the door, but Clover sticks out a hand and stops it halfway, expression vaguely concerned but more easygoing than Qrow would have expected. He removes his hand from the door and then sticks both hands in the air as a sign of surrender, eyebrows raised and a wry grin on his face. 

“Hey, I can take a hint. If you don’t want to hang out, that’s fine with me, but the offer still stands.” Qrow scrutinizes him for a moment, but finds no trace of malice or deception in his face. He’s about to open his mouth to say no when he remembers the shattered glass and the spiteful lights behind him and suddenly feels no desire to be in his room any longer. 

“Fine. If I have to,” Qrow grumbles, and shuts the door behind him quick as possible. Clover huffs a quiet laugh. 

“You sure know how to make a guy feel special,” Clover says, causing Qrow to blush, and then sets off down the hallway towards the rec room. Qrow follows, not quite sure what to say. They’re silent for a few moments, and then the Ace Op pipes up again. “What were you talking about with General Ironwood?” 

Qrow rubs the back of his neck and looks to the side. “Oh. That.” He gathers his thoughts for a minute. “I… had some things to say about relocating even more Huntsmen away from Mantle to the construction site. I think it’s unfair what we’re doing to those people, but as per usual, Jimmy wasn’t exactly  _ excited _ to hear my opinion.” 

Clover doesn’t react to the derisive nickname Qrow gives his superior officer; he just sighs. “General Ironwood is… having a hard time right now. He’s under a lot of pressure to do the right thing, but everyone disagrees on what the right thing is.” Qrow frowns and looks at Clover. 

“Making excuses for him now?” Clover shakes his head.

“No—I think we need to help Mantle more, although I understand why the General is acting in the way he is. But you know what, let’s not talk about work tonight.” 

Qrow shakes his head and smiles wryly. “You’re the one who brought work up in the first place, lucky ass.” This surprises a real laugh out of Clover, who looks at Qrow, eyes crinkled with mirth. 

“Ouch! Okay, backtracking. Tell me about your day,” he says, and the conversation is easier after that. When they reach the rec room, Clover holds the door open for Qrow, who promptly heads over to the table to play cards, but Clover stops him with a hand on his wrist. 

“I was thinking we’d play darts tonight. Since it’s less luck-based, it might level the playing field a bit,” Clover says with a bit of a smirk, and Qrow scoffs. 

“Tired of beating me all the time?” Clover chuckles and heads over to the dartboard on the far wall, grabbing a couple darts before turning around to look at the huntsman. 

“Never. Now I’m just going to beat you with skill instead of luck.” Qrow narrows his eyes and smiles deviously, getting his darts as well. 

“Oh, it’s on, lucky ass.” Clover laughs at the nickname again, and then they start. Qrow, having spent the better part of his life in bars, pubs, and taverns of all kinds, is highly skilled at the game, so he’s determined not to lose. Clover makes the first shot and almost hits the bullseye. He turns to look at Qrow, eyebrow raised and mouth quirked in a smug smile. 

“Wanna give up yet?” Qrow elbows him playfully and then throws his dart, getting the bullseye. Clover whistles, eyes wide, and claps Qrow on the back. “Nevermind. I take it back. I might be the one who wants to give up.” Qrow laughs. They go again, and Clover consistently does pretty well while Qrow sporadically does very well and very badly, but mostly well; their scores are nearly even, though Qrow has a slight edge. Then Clover hits a bullseye, and Qrow immediately misses his next shot, much to Clover’s enjoyment and his chagrin. When Clover laughs, shakes his head, and aims to take his next shot, Qrow gets an idea. 

He crosses his arms and concentrates, focusing his semblance on the man next to him. He leans over slightly, brushing his arm against the Ace Op’s to establish a point of contact. Clover shifts his feet and then throws the dart, but it slips out of his fingers and lodges itself into the wall below the dartboard. Qrow snorts, and Clover turns to defend himself, flush high on his cheeks. “It slipped out of my hand, not fair—” But he stops in his tracks when his eyes land on Qrow’s face. “You’re using your semblance! This is sabotage,” he whines. 

Qrow’s eyes are wide and innocent, but he’s shoving down a smile. “Oops,” he says, and his facade breaks when Clover gives him a punch to the arm with a wry grin on his face. His next shot is poor too, but it at least hits the board. 

“So…” Clover starts while taking his next turn. “Have you always been able to control your semblance like that? I’ve never seen you do it before.” 

“What do you mean?” Qrow asks, confused. 

“Your eyes were glowing bright red,” Clovers says. “I could almost feel the misfortune in the air; it was really concentrated.” Qrow blinks, surprised, and then shrugs. 

“...I dunno. I’ve always been able to vaguely command my semblance when I’ve wanted to, but it’s mostly out of my control. I can’t make it stop, but I can make it worse. Most of the time it just works on its own or off of my emotions, though.” Clover hums, thoughtful. 

“If you want… I could work with you on controlling your semblance more. It seems like you’ve already some of it down already, but if you want some advice, I’d be happy to—” Qrow cuts him off, smiling softly. 

“Yeah, lucky charm. Sounds great.” Clover blushes a little bit, and his next shot is a total miss. He looks accusingly at Qrow, who raises his hands in surrender and laughs. “Not my fault, that time.” 

They play a couple more rounds, and the game is pretty fairly matched, though Qrow wins more often than not. The banter continues as well, and as the night goes on Qrow feels himself unwind more and more until he’s laughing and smiling almost constantly, in a state of peace that he hasn’t experienced since he was still with team STRQ. 

“So, you’re telling me you wore a  _ skirt  _ for your first few weeks at Beacon?!” Clover cries, laughter interrupting his words and brightening his tone. Qrow waves his hands frustratedly. 

“How was I supposed to know? I lived in a tribe in the forest for my entire life!” He sputters, but he’s laughing as well. Clover breaks down into giggles and wipes away a few tears of mirth for dramatic effect. Qrow watches him fondly, and when Clover looks back up to meet his gaze, eyes twinkling and smile blinding, Qrow knows he’s in  _ deep.  _

There’s a moment of silence as the Ace Op’s chuckles die off and they continue to look at each other, distracted. Qrow then comes back to himself and turns back to the dartboard, a bit embarrassed. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Clover still staring at him before he turns away as well, and the quiet between them is oppressive. Qrow has to say something. 

“So…” He mumbles, scratching the back of his neck. “You and Winter, huh?” He throws a dart at the board and misses the 20-point slice, instead hitting the 1. Clover looks at him strangely and cocks his head slightly. 

“Me and Winter?” Clover throws a dart and gets a 15. 

“Yeah, you and Winter. How are things going with that?” Qrow gets a 4 and sighs in frustration. 

“I don’t know… they’re going like they normally go?” Qrow rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, annoyed when Clover hits a 19. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be some sort of lucky charm? Woulda thought you’d have an easier time getting lucky,” He says, the words bitter and heavy on his tongue. 

“I don’t think I know what you’re getting at,” Clover says, brow furrowed, and after Qrow gets a 7 he gets a 14. 

“Do I have to spell it out for you? I saw you two flirting earlier. It seems like she likes you.” Clover’s eyes widen, and then he blushes and laughs awkwardly. Qrow gets a 5. 

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about. I wasn’t flirting with Winter earlier.” Qrow rolls his eyes again. Clover hits a 3.

“ _ I’ve always admired your fighting style, Winter, and the way you lick Ironwood’s boots is just sooooooo sexy,”  _ Qrow says, imitating Clover in a high-pitched voice, causing the Ace Op to punch him in the shoulder. 

“I did not sound like that. I just genuinely think she’s a good fighter—I do!—and I wanted to be nice,” Clover says, talking over Qrow’s scoff. “Besides, she’s way too professional for me. I like someone who can let loose once in a while,” he says, and then hits a 20. Qrow looks at him, eyes wide for a moment. He then turns away and aims his dart.

“So you don’t just flirt with everyone then?” Qrow says half-jokingly, purposefully keeping his eyes trained on the dartboard as a blush creeps up the back of his neck. Suddenly, he feels a hand on his lower back, and he can sense Clover’s warmth directly behind his left shoulder, almost close enough to be pressed against him but not quite. 

“Not with  _ everyone _ ,” Clover murmurs, and Qrow turns to look at him for just a second. His eyes are glowing brightly, the teal color boring through him. Qrow turns back to the dartboard and, without any technique or care at all, throws his dart. It’s a flawless bullseye. He turns back to Clover, who’s still watching him with bright eyes. Their noses are almost close enough to touch, and he can feel Clover’s breath on his face. 

“I don’t need your help to win,” Qrow growls, but there’s no animosity in his voice. He turns his body to face Clover completely, and the hand that’s still pressed to his lower back pulls him in closer until Qrow’s torso is almost totally held against Clover’s. Their faces are only centimeters apart. 

“My mistake,” Clover whispers, and then closes his eyes as he starts to lean in. Qrow closes his eyes as well, hands moving up to cup Clover’s neck and—

Clover’s scroll rings loudly. The two jump apart, stunned, and then Clover groans and rubs a hand over his face. “Sorry, I have to get this.” He walks over to answer while Qrow stands rooted in place. “What, Marrow?” Clover barks, and the anger in his voice snaps Qrow out of his stupor. He blushes and averts his eyes, listening to the Ace Op frustratedly answer Marrow’s questions about the mission schedule tomorrow before hanging up. He puts down the scroll and looks back to where Qrow stands, his teal eyes hopeful and apologetic. He starts to walk back over, clearly intending to recover the moment. 

Then he slips on the edge of the carpet and comes crashing to the ground, smacking his face on the table, and that sort of ends that. 

“Clover!” Qrow rushes over to where Clover kneels on the ground, holding his nose with eyes screwed up in pain. He sinks to the floor and puts a hand on Clover’s shoulder, prompting the other man to take his hand away from his face. There’s blood all over, and his nose is a mess. Qrow gasps quietly, and then stands back up. “Stay right here,” He murmurs, and grabs an ice pack from the fridge as well as some tissues. Clover cleans up his bloody nose and then puts the ice pack on his face, groaning slightly at the cold. He looks up to meet Qrow’s eyes, and his expression is filled with wry amusement, but this is  _ really _ not funny. 

“I sure ruined the moment, didn’t I?” Clover says, voice muffled and nasally from his injury. Qrow frowns and looks away. He’s silent for a moment before responding, voice tight.

“...You should go to bed, and let your aura fix that up overnight. Don’t wanna have your face all messed up for tomorrow,” he mutters. Clover smirks. 

“You like the way my face looks?” He asks playfully, but the huntsman doesn’t react. He simply stands back up again and offers a hand to Clover, who takes it. Qrow releases his hand as soon as he is upright, then turns away. 

“C’mon. It’s late,” Qrow says, and walks away. Clover frowns and then follows him out, but Qrow is walking at a determined pace and Clover needs to head in the opposite direction. He stands in the middle of the hallway, just outside the door, and watches Qrow leave. 

“Good night,” He calls, but the only response he gets from the man is a quick look over the shoulder before he turns the corner and is out of sight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long - ive had a busy week and this chapter was a bit longer. hope you enjoyed!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dammit! I mean to only have four chapters, but this chapter turned out a lot longer than I anticipated and now there's going to be five. Still, I'm really happy with how this went, so I hope you enjoy!

It’s been a few days since Qrow has talked to Clover, or even really seen him. Qrow’s the last to show up for mission assignment meetings and the first to leave; he stays long enough to get his mission and then ducks out of the room as quickly as he can. He takes his time on missions assignments where sometimes he used to go as quickly as was safe so that he could get some free time; and the remaining free time he’s allotted for himself is spent training alone, flying above the towers of Atlas, or asleep. Clover has caught his eye a couple times and tried to engage him, but Qrow manages to vanish before he can say a word. 

He hasn’t seen much of Ruby and Yang either, although it’s been hard to miss their concerned and disappointed glances. That hurts—he’s been trying to make them proud all this time, and was finally making some real headway, but… well. He’s never been very good at following through on things like this. 

It just hurts too much all of a sudden, it’s all too much—the memory of blood dripping down Clover’s face is haunting him. He knows it wasn’t that serious and that Clover’s probably fine now, but he’s willing to bet the man never tripped and fell like that in the past. His semblance had always kept him safe from stupid injuries, and now it’s not anymore. 

Qrow’s semblance has always caused him injury and pain, and it’s caused others injury and pain before too, but he had entertained the thought that maybe Clover was immune to that. Maybe there was someone out there who wouldn’t be burdened by Qrow’s very presence, but clearly that’s not true. Even if Clover is luckier than everyone else, Qrow just  _ being  _ there still makes his life worse.

His chest feels tight and sick. He clutches the bridge of his nose and rests his elbow on the table in his room, eyes closed. Shut up in his room every night, his semblance starts to get especially out of control. The lights haven’t come back on since that night with Clover, and though he managed to clean up the broken glass he hasn’t dared to touch anything fragile since that night either. He keeps knocking his elbows and knees against doors, chairs, and tables. In short, he’s fucking miserable. 

The only thing he likes about his room right now is the window, which is large and conveniently placed to allow him an escape whenever he chooses. He stands and walks over, opening the pane and letting the cold Atlesian air wash over him, the wind combing its fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes and takes a breath, and in an instant the wind is combing through his feathers instead. He flies out of the window, soaring above the Academy and into the twinkling night sky. 

Though Atlas looks cold and regal at most times, in the darkness it looks like a glowing beacon of warmth. He flies lazy circles around the building, looking in through the windows to catch glimpses of the different people inside. He sees plenty of students heading back to their dorms, posture upright and uniforms spotless, but the sleepiness on their faces is evident and he can tell that they’re all putting away their little soldier personas for now. Jaune, Ren, and Nora stand out from the crowd, the two boys tuckered out but still humoring Nora and her boundless energy. Qrow feels a tug of affection at their antics. 

He flies to another window and spots Yang and Ruby wrestling each other playfully while Weiss and Blake read together. Hidden against the blackness of the night, he stops flying for a moment and watches the domestic scene. After so much suffering, he’s glad they finally get to be kids again. For a moment he’s tempted to fly over and see if they’d let him in, but he doesn’t want to put a damper on their night. They don’t need him hanging around. He lingers for another moment and then takes his leave. He intends to soar into the night for a couple hours and leave the Academy behind, guilt overwhelming him momentarily, but out of the corner of his eye a figure catches his attention.

Clover stands out on a balcony with Elm and Marrow, elbows leaning against the ledge as he stares off into the night. The two Ace Ops stand behind him, visibly joking around a bit, but Qrow can’t hear what they’re saying. Clover doesn’t seem to be joining in, though, which isn’t like him. He watches as Clover sighs and hangs his head, then turns to face the other two. He says something and they both give him sympathetic looks. Marrow shrug, a wry smile on his face, and turns to leave. Elm places a hand on Clover’s shoulder for a second and follows after Marrow, waving goodnight. Clover watches them go and then looks back to the city. His eyes fall, expression faltering. Qrow dares to fly a bit closer, perching on the edge of the balcony. Clover’s eyes trace over him for a second, but of course he doesn’t recognize Qrow. “What do I do?” Clover murmurs to himself, and then he walks away. 

Qrow watches him, his heart aching, until the man disappears from his view. Then he flies into the night.

The next morning, Qrow is awoken by a knock on the door. He groans, dragging a pillow over his head. He hadn’t gotten back until the early hours of the morning, and his body aches with pain from flying for so long. There’s another knock, and he reluctantly drags himself out of bed to answer the door. It’s probably Ruby or Yang, potentially even Clover—though if it  _ is _ Clover he definitely will not open the door. He can’t face the man right now. 

When he looks through the door hole, though, he’s surprised. It isn’t any of the three. It’s Blake.

Qrow is too curious to turn her away. He does really like Blake—she’s good for Ruby and especially for Yang—and she’s very kind to him, but they’ve never been particularly close. He has no clue what she’d want with him; so, he opens the door to find out.

She gives him a shy smile. “Hey, Qrow,” she says, tone soft as always. “Can I come in?”

He stands to the side, allowing her entrance without a word. She looks over his quarters for a minute, and then goes to sit down in his chair. He follows her lead and sits down on his bed across from her, waiting for her to initiate the conversation. Knowing Blake, he could be waiting for a rather long time, but mercifully she starts to speak pretty quickly. 

“Sorry if I woke you up. I just wanted to talk to you before everything gets busy,” She says a bit bashfully. Qrow scrubs the back of his head, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

“No, it’s okay,” He responds. “I needed to get up some time, right?” She seems gratified by his reassurance, and there’s a moment of silence before his curiosity gets the better of him. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

She looks away, clearly struggling with whatever it is she wants to say, but then she just comes out with it. “Why are you avoiding everyone?” Her tone is equal parts accusatory and understanding, as if she gets exactly why he’s doing what he’s doing, but just doesn’t agree. Qrow blinks, surprised at her bluntness, and looks away. 

“... What do you mean? I—I haven’t been avoiding anyone.” He mumbles unconvincingly. She cocks an eyebrow.

“That’s not true and you know it.” Qrow sighs and puts his hands on his knees, at a bit of a loss for words.

“Okay, so I might be a little… scarce at the moment. But what’s it to you?” He says, and instantly winces at his words, sounding more defensive than he really intended. Blake looks thoroughly unimpressed.

“What it is to  _ me  _ is a crappy excuse for not dealing with your issues. Instead of trying to face what’s upsetting you, you’re running away from them in the hopes that they’re just going to vanish. Trust me, they’re not.” She crosses her arms. 

“Look, kid, my issues aren’t ones where I can just have a good cry, talk it out, and then magically forget all about it. I am  _ never _ getting rid of my semblance,” he mutters bitterly. 

“It’s not about getting rid of your semblance. It’s about accepting it and accepting the fact that everyone loves you regardless, and even because of it. It’s part of who you are.” Qrow looks up at her, eyes wide. He’s speechless for a moment before he frowns again and looks away.

“Easy for you to say. You don’t have a semblance that makes you a burden on everyone you care about.” She huffs. 

“Like I said, it’s not about your semblance. Sure, you definitely got the short end of the stick when it comes to that, but you’re not making it any better by isolating yourself. You may think everyone is better off without you, but when you run away from the people that love you, all you do is hurt them.” She pauses and looks away, tears emerging in her eyes. Her words are halting and thick in her throat. “When Beacon fell, I ran away from everyone––from Yang, because I blamed  _ myself _ for what happened to her. I didn’t think she would want me around, and I would only add on to her problems with all of my own. And… I couldn’t stand looking her in the eye and facing the guilt that I felt for bringing her so much pain. So I just  _ ran, _ ” She says, voice ragged and tears falling. “But it never did us any good. When Yang needed me most, I wasn’t there for her. And when I needed Yang…” Blake’s voice breaks, and she wipes away a tear. “I had put too much distance between us to reach her.” Qrow stares, heart stopped in his chest. Blake chuckles for a moment and wipes away another tear, and then looks up to meet Qrow’s gaze. 

“What I’m saying is, running away from the people you love never does any good. It only causes everyone pain. And right now, I don’t think we can afford to waste any time. Any of us could die at any minute; we need to be happy while we can. What are we fighting for, if not to be happy with each other?” She says, and Qrow is reminded of Clover’s face on the balcony last night. He looked… miserable, more miserable than Qrow had ever seen him. He remembers the feel of Clover’s hand on his back, Clover’s breath on his face, Clover’s eyes boring into his, and his chest free falls. Maybe Blake has a point. 

Qrow shakes his head. “You’re one smart girl, Blake. I see why Yang likes you.” She smiles. 

“Speaking of Yang, you need to stop avoiding her and Ruby. I know that it’s Clover that you’re moping about, but they are reaching new levels of concerned and annoyed, which is a  _ very  _ dangerous combination for those two in particular. You’re lucky it was me and not one of them that came over,” She says, and he huffs, raking a hand through his hair. 

“Lucky…” Qrow rasps, a bitter smile on his face, and Blake rolls her eyes. 

“Just saying, if it’s luck that you’re constantly worried about, Clover’s probably the one person in the world that you really don’t have to worry about that with. Avoiding him is just stupid.” At this, she stands. Qrow stands as well, and they make their way vaguely towards the door. As she reaches for the handle, he stops her, hands in his pockets but gaze directed at her. 

“Blake?” She turns back around to look at him, cat ears perking up. He smirks. “Suck it up and ask Yang out already. The gods know that girl is too head over heels to think straight.” Blake blushes profusely, and she scratches the back of her neck before meeting his gaze. 

“She’s definitely not thinking  _ straight… _ ” Blake mumbles, her smile a touch mischievous, and Qrow lets out a surprised laugh. 

“I see she’s rubbing off on you! Bad choice, kitty cat.” Blake giggles and rolls her eyes at the nickname, giving him an exasperatedly fond look. He smiles at her, and impulsively raises his arms for a hug which she quickly falls into. After a moment, he murmurs, “Hurt her and I’ll come after you.” 

Blake’s voice is muffled by his chest, but she quietly says, “I know.” Qrow puts his hands on her shoulders and gently pushes her away, looking her in the eyes. 

“But you should know, if she hurts you, I’ll come after her too.” Blake’s cat ears curl a little bit as she gives him a warm smile. 

“Thanks Uncle Qrow,” she whispers, and walks out the door. 

She turns back to look at him for a moment, and as the door shuts, he whispers, “Thank you too.” 

He’s left alone, smiling at the spot Blake was standing. The morning sun pours into the room and brightens up the space, making it seem lighter than it has in days.

Qrow will never be ready to fully accept his semblance. But he does feels ready to see Clover. 


	5. Chapter 5

The walk to Clover’s quarters is long; they reside in totally different wings of the building. Qrow could turn into a bird and fly there, but his wings will be sore from last night, so he’s resigned to the walk. It gives him plenty of time to think, which is not really a good thing considering his track record for, you know,  _ thinking,  _ but such is life. Still, despite his propensity to psych himself out over this kind of stuff, he stays resolute in his purpose and marches on. 

Eventually Qrow finds himself staring down the door. All that’s left to do is knock. Facing the wall of solid white, his resolve falters; it’s early in the morning, maybe Clover is still sleeping and Qrow should come back later (or never) instead of knocking on the door right now. Unfortunately, the only part of this thought process his hand receives is “knocking on the door right now”, and before he can turn tail and run as fast as he can the deed is already done. The knock is loud and reverberates in his head.

For a few tense moments the door remains unopened, but the sound of footsteps becomes ever louder and suddenly Clover Ebi is standing in front of him, brow furrowed and a question in his eyes. Qrow scratches the back of his neck and looks up at the man, expression sheepish. “Hey, Clover.” 

Clover gives him a strange look, but steps to the side to allow Qrow to enter. Being the leader of the Ace Ops, Clover’s quarters are much larger and accommodating than Qrow’s are; a wall-to-wall window lets the morning sun stream into the room and illuminates the pristine white kitchen island near the door. Qrow walks over and hesitantly takes a seat at the table. Clover, still at the door, turns to look at him and crosses his arms. 

There’s a moment of awkward silence. When it becomes clear Clover’s not going to be the first to say anything, Qrow coughs and looks away. “So, uh… how’s your nose?” 

Clover cocks an eyebrow and heads over to stand across the table from Qrow. “Healed several days ago.” The unsaid  _ ‘you would have known if you had been around’  _ doesn’t go over Qrow’s head. He kicks himself mentally. 

“Yeah… right. Of course.” 

“So, you showed up here for a reason. Care to tell me what it is?” Qrow looks up, surprised by Clover’s sharp tone. Of course he has a right to be angry, Qrow has just… never seen him like that before. 

“Well, I wanted to apologize for being, y’know, distant these past couple days.” Clover gives a short and incredulous hum at this. “It wasn’t fair of me to just avoid you like that.” 

“No, it wasn’t.” Qrow winces. He’s not very good at apologies. 

“So… I’m sorry. I won’t do that again.” 

Clover raises his eyebrows. “Who says I’m going to give you the chance to get close enough to ditch me again? We almost kissed, Qrow. I thought we had something, and then you just ran away.” A pang of anxiety strikes through Qrow’s chest. Lost for words, he grasps at straws to come up with a response. 

“I… Clover, we—” Clover cuts him off with a sigh, and looks aside. 

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’ll… give you a chance to explain yourself.” Qrow takes a deep breath. 

“Look, when we got—well, close—the other day I was fine with it. Way more than fine. But you tripped and fell, and I looked at the blood dripping down your nose and I knew it was my fault. My semblance has always… been a burden on the people around me, and it’s cost me a lot of relationships. Even if you have good luck, I’d still be putting you in danger constantly. I didn’t want to do that to you, and there you were, hurt because of me. So, I ran away.” Clover stares at him with wide eyes, arms uncrossed. “But Blake came over and talked some sense into me, and even though my semblance is still utterly shitty, I’m here now. And I’d like to keep being here, if you’ll have me.” 

Clover smiles softly and looks down at the table. He gathers his thoughts for a moment before speaking. “I’m glad you’ve got your head on straight enough to know that I don’t care about your semblance.” He looks up at Qrow. “I care about  _ you. _ ” 

Qrow smiles back, face flushing slightly. He finds himself brave enough to meet Clover’s eyes and say, “I care about you, too.” 

For a moment they both seem to forget where they are, but Clover comes back to reality. “Promise you aren’t just going to run off again?” 

Qrow bites his lip. “I don’t know if I’m always going to be here. Where the girls go, I go, and that’s eventually going to take us away from Atlas. But I promise I’ll never avoid you like that again.” Clover seems saddened by the idea of Qrow leaving Atlas, but he nods, satisfied. 

Silence falls, and Qrow wonders where to go from here. He feels like he’s gravitating towards Clover, but the man is hurt and upset with him right now and he doesn’t know where they stand with one another. Coming together feels inevitable but still so uncertain—he isn’t sure if the magnetism that’s trying to pull him into Clover’s arms is appropriate for the moment or not, but he feels it so  _ strongly.  _ Caught in his confusion, Qrow waits for Clover to make the first move, but he never does. 

The morning sun slowly rises higher and light spills across Qrow’s back, throwing his face into shadow but illuminating the man in front of him. Qrow can’t take it anymore. He stands up and walks to the door. His hand touches the panel to open it and he turns to give a quick goodbye, but when he looks back, Clover is right behind him. He grabs Qrow’s hand, moving it away from the panel before Qrow can open the door, and instead brings it to his lips. Clover’s eyes are dark and full of some unknown emotion when they meet Qrow’s own, and there’s a moment of stillness as Clover’s kiss lingers.

“Please don’t go,” Clover breathes. “I hate it when you do that.” 

Qrow collapses into him, arms winding around the other man’s neck as hands grab his waist and pull him closer. 

The sun warms Qrow’s skin, and he smiles at the feeling. Clover smiles too, before becoming impatient and kissing him again, one of his hands moving up to flatten against the expanse of his back. Qrow laces his fingers through Clover’s hair, eliciting a small hum. They surge against each other for several sunlit moments before slowly breaking away. Looking at Clover’s flushed cheeks and mussed hair, Qrow smiles again. He moves his hand out of Clover’s hair and onto his face, brushing a thumb against his cheekbone. Clover leans into his hand, and their foreheads touch for a moment before Qrow sighs. 

“Maybe we should get going,” He whispers. “There’s a mission assignment meeting for you to lead, boy scout.” The boy scout in question huffs and looks to the door. 

“I just got you back. It’s not fair,” Clover whines, and Qrow looks at him with amused exasperation. He takes a small step back, fingers slowly gliding off his cheek as he withdraws. 

“Don’t worry. We’ve got a lot more of this to look forward to.” Clover gives him a warm smile at this, and relinquishes him from his arms. They walk out of the room together, and Qrow takes Clover’s hand as they go down the hallway. Clover’s grasp is warm and strong; their palms fit perfectly together. 

Before they reach the door of the briefing room, Qrow lets go again with a sheepish grimace. “Look, Cloves, let’s wait to tell the kids about us until a little later, okay? They’ve all been teasing me relentlessly about it and I want to give them more ammo straight away.” Clover rolls his eyes good-naturedly. 

“If you insist.” With that, the Ace Op opens the door to the briefing room and walks in, heading straight to the front. All the other Ace Ops and huntsmen are in their seats, waiting to begin. Qrow makes for the nearest open seat, walking past Ruby and Yang who stare at him with open mouths and gleeful expressions. He sits himself down and tries to ignore their looks, but it’s clear that they knew that something was up from the moment he walked in with Clover. 

“Hey Uncle Qrow,” Ruby says with a mischievous smile on her face, and Qrow’s brave front collapses completely. 

He hides his red face in his hands and mumbles, “Shut up,” but it’s no good. Ruby and Yang start squealing with joy, pestering him with a hundred questions about him and Clover. Between his fingers he can see Weiss fist bump Blake, who looks at him proudly. The other Ace Ops visibly exchange money, and he can spot Ren explaining the situation to Oscar while Jaune and Nora high five. He shuts his eyes and looks away, embarrassed, but it does nothing to spare him from the relentless giggles. 

He drags his hands down his face and gives a long-suffering sigh before turning to Clover, who is trying to remain professional and dignified and largely succeeding save for the blush on his face. When he meets Qrow’s eyes, he gives a bashful smile, and Qrow can’t help but return it. _'So much for that,'_ he mouthes at Qrow, and then comes back to himself.

“Okay, everyone, quiet down,” Clover says in his Ace-Ops-leader voice, and after a bit more ribbing from Ruby and Yang everyone turns and pays attention to the missions at hand––except for Qrow. The words wash right over his head as he gazes at the man at the front of the room, his chest feeling warm and full. Despite his earlier misgivings, he’s glad that he trusted in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this is sappy as shit - especially the last line - but i could not help myself and i am not sorry


End file.
